Oh For the Love of Crap!
by Segunda Katigbak
Summary: Kyouya/OC. family – n: a group of persons of common ancestry: a social group composed of parents and their children. The dictionary is wrong in a lot of ways.
1. Chapter 1

**Oh, For the Love of Crap**

**BY: MYLiFE'SBOAT**

This is a disclaimer.

_**Summary:**__ family – n: a group of persons of common ancestry: a social group composed of parents and their children. The dictionary is wrong in a lot of ways._

_I, mylife'sboat hold this oath to finish __**Oh, For the Love of Crap.**_

The first draft is almost finished.

_Italics are flashbacks._

Short series. Two chapters the least, Five, the most.

REWRITTEN – originally one of my stories before, My Little Boy

Machine-edited. Blame MS Word Office.

. . . . . . .

**Chapter One**

**family **_n_,** 1: **a social group composed of parents and their children

. . . . . . .

"Mommy, this scarf makes me look like a marshmallow," the little boy complained, his eyebrows wrinkling and his lips tugging down to a frown as he jerked the hem of his mother's skirt. The little boy hated sporting too much clothing especially this . . . this yellow parka he was wearing. It was given to him by the plump old lady next door, which he never liked. The woman was simply too old and too obsessed in romance for him to handle.

The boy's mother bent down to look at his son who was now trying to undo the knot of his scarf. "It's winter, honey. Aren't you cold?" she asked with a smile while dropping a kiss on the child's forehead. She stood up and turned to their apartment door, trying to secure the almost busted locks in place. When she finished, she shoved the keys on the pocket of her coat and looked at her son.

"But I'm all mushy," he complained with an irritated look.

She gave a low chuckle while contemplating how cute he looked like with that expression. "It's fine to be mushy as long as you don't kill yourself with the cold. Just bear with it for a while, okay?" she told him as she fixed his scarf.

He groaned despairingly. "Okay."

The cold was hitting back on. Right after the New Year, the temperature had dropped drastically low. Though the snow was starting to melt already, the temperature still had its stubborn way to make people freeze out to their soul in the street. Lucky, Rinko was able to have the heater fixed before November or she and her son would have frozen to death.

"Mommy, aren't you going back to work?" the four-year-old boy asked when they reached the main street filled with busy people, trying to get their way to work. Sure, this black-haired little lad was always full of questions since he learned to speak; firing them each time he saw something that roused his interest (Mommy, what are booboos? Mommy, where do babies come from? Mommy, what does embarrassing mean?). The questions drained the last of her sanity but later, as they went on, she learned to get used to them.

While she knew how to deal some of her little boy's questions, there were still some she still had no answers to.

"No, honey. I'm still on leave. Do you want me to go to work already?"

"I wish the plump old lady won't hug me so tight again when you're gone at night. I couldn't breathe."

Now, where did this young, little man learn to speak like that?

"Touya," Rinko regarded her son with a smile. "She's not Miss Plump Old Lady; she's Sashi-san."

"Sashi-obasaan."

Rinko giggled in amusement. Such innocence!

"Honey, she's twenty-four."

"But she looks so old," he complained with his brows furrowed. He was starting to get annoyed. Why couldn't his mother see that even though she's twenty-four, she looked terribly old? He could see white strands on her hair sprouting in random places, she wore glasses that magnified twice the size of her eyes, and she always kept her hair on a tight bun. Besides, she has wrinkles on her forehead when she raised her eyebrows.

"I'm twenty-four," she pointed out.

"But you don't look old. You are pretty," he said with a smile and a hint of a wink. Her mother chuckled at this, noticing how much the boy could charm so much.

"Okay, enough of that," she told him as she tried to feign an authoritative tone but to no avail. She bent down and caught him under the shoulder blades. Rinko lifted him up and tucked him on her back as they waited for the traffic light on the other side of the road change color. Touya wound his arms securely around her mother's neck.

"Mommy, what is that?" the boy asked while pointing at the traffic light. As soon as it turned green, she crossed the street, her shoulders bumping into someone's shoulder along the way. She muttered her apology just in time and proceeded with her march with Touya complaining about how "careless that old man can get without even saying sorry." The boy sure knew how to charm girls and how to complain a lot when he was irritated. His daycare teacher would often grumble about Touya's stubbornness one moment—until the little boy climbs up to Rinko's lap and smile—and digress about his cuteness the next.

It reminded her so much of someone she knew . . . someone she loved. She had fallen for that same smile, that same flicker of mystery behind dark grey eyes, that same arrogant but gentle attitude. She had; and that was a long time ago. Rinko is never one to dwell too much about the past.

She jerked to a stop, as her arm almost disentangled itself from Touya's leg. A hand tugged the sleeve of her coat tightly, forcing her to move slightly backwards.

Caught by surprise, Rinko whipped her head back to look at the person who almost risked Touya falling from her hold. She was pretty sure Touya would complain to him aloud and her lips tugged to a smirk. Watching Touya lecture someone would be a nice live show entertainment.

But as her eyes focused on the stranger in front of her, her face was suddenly marked with shock and fear. He was the last person she'd expect to bump into a crowded street.

. . . . . . .

_**(At the Newspaper Company)**_

_**Rinko**_

_"Are you sure you're all right?" Hana-chan asked in a concerned voice as she gently rubbed my back as if giving me an assurance that it was all right._

_"Yeah, it must be—urk!" I grabbed the bowl for support and threw up for the second time. I haven't been feeling well lately and as I remember, I was not having normal meals yet again. I reached for my bag and rummaged for a bottle of antacid tablets. It rattled on my hold and Hana-chan got me twice the dosage as I threw up on the bowl again. The ulcer must be on its fitful revenge on my stomach for the third time this month. Oh, joy. I should really get myself a check-up before it gets worse._

_I wiped my mouth with the tissue Hana provided me and popped the tablets in. Waiting for the effects of the antacid to kick in, I looked up and assured her that everything's fine. She can go back to work._

_"You should go to the hospital," she asserted with a firm, unwavering voice. "Come on, I'll send you off."_

_"Hana, I have field work today," I told her._

_She looked at me with sharp eyes. "I insist. You're sick and you're overworking."_

_"Oh, please," I whined. "Don't fuss much about this. I'm fine. I'll have the check up after I go to the location. This has to be finished by four."_

_"I'll send someone else."_

_Oh, right. She's my head._

_Dammit._

_I did not have much choice so I ended up a few minutes later on the passenger seat of her car with her humming loudly with the beat of her rock music._

_**(At the Clinic)**_

_"Congratulations, you're six weeks pregnant!" the doctor announced happily as he waved the results of his findings in front of my face. Okay, maybe I wasn't hearing correctly and my ulcer has gone straight up to my auditory nerves that they were not functioning properly as well._

_"I'm sorry, what?"_

_"You're pregnant. Six weeks. Congratulations." She had the world's greatest smile. Ever._

_As I sat on the foot of the bed inside the doctor's clinic, I remembered. As I looked at the sea green orbs my doctor had, her smile unwavering and happy, I remembered. As I squeezed Hana's knuckles tightly that I bet they had almost gone white, I remembered._

_It was the stupidest thing I have ever done._

_I fell in love with a man that I should not fall in love with. I have fallen in love with a man that caught me with his smile and his gentle attitude and his mischievous eyes. I fell in love and it was a mistake; not in the context of falling in love itself but to the man I have fallen in love with._

_It was three months ago when the affair started. It began with a simple chat, to a couple of drinks and fifty-year-old vintage wine, to stuffing our tongues to each other's mouths the next. _

_What commenced as an innocent conversation about the newspaper company I'm working on, the small studio I'm planning to start after I gain the right funds to begin the business and his work on corporate trade, later shifting to difficult-to-handle inebriation to raging hormones._

_Our meetings did not end there. Truth be told, I enjoyed his company. We had a lot of fun together. We ate out on family restaurants, caught a couple of blockbuster movies (in surprisingly empty cinemas), watched a play or two together, and ended up beside each other's arms the morning after. It began as mutual attraction to commitment and attachment._

_And then it happened. It always happens. Later on, I found out he was married and I felt betrayed. I slapped him hard once, cursed his name, tried to slap him again but failed, and stormed out of the restaurant with tears on my eyes. I was twenty; young and stupid. He was Ootori Kyouya, the first man I let myself fall for and the first man I allowed to break my heart._

_An affair is an affair and when it ends, it ends there, period. There were never any happy endings. I was hurt because I felt betrayed. I disgusted myself because I fell in love with a married man and slept with him. I hated him because he lied to me. With much luck, I have not seen him since then and I went on with my life. It might take me a lot of time before I could manage to get over my feelings but life goes on and it doesn't just stop there._

_Six weeks later, here I am, listening to my doctor say I'm pregnant with the bastard's child._

_**(At a restaurant a week later)**_

_**Rinko**_

_He hated publicity. In those months we were together, he always wanted to keep our relationship discreet. I couldn't blame him. He's a young and popular son of a business tycoon and a doctor of their own hospital at that. Spreading unnecessary rumors is what he wanted to avoid the most._

_I picked a table at a private corner of the restaurant. It was almost past lunch time and the customers only went in for a quick bite and nothing much. The tea was cold and we sat across each other without speaking. I was the one who asked him here so I should be the one to start the pleasantries, right? Sure._

_Before I could speak, Kyouya broke it. "Nice weather."_

_I supressed a scoff. The weather, huh?_

_"I'm pregnant," I blurted out before I could stop myself. Silence came. It tore us apart._

_"Is it mine?" he asked; his tone flat. As soon as he said those words, I leaned over the table and knocked out the teacup accidentally. My palm met his cheek in a solid slap._

_"Bastard," I muttered under my breath, my whole body shaking in anger as tears threatened to spill. "Bastard."_

_"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I have a wife."_

_But of course. "A wife," I repeated. "Right. Screw your pretty little life, Kyouya. Screw you."_

_I left him with the tea spilt on his black leather shoes, with his cheek stinging with the blow I gave him, with the broken pieces of my small heart. I bit my lip as I tried to stop the tears._

_Six months later, Touya was born. The moment I heard the loud cries of my son echo across the confines of the labor room, I was the happiest woman in the planet. I felt complete, like all the wrong pieces of the puzzle were replaced with the right ones and the whole picture was better. It was much, much better._

_Touya is my whole life. I breathe because of him. I see because of him. I smile because of him. My heart beats because of my son._

. . . . . . .

"Rinko," he spoke in a low voice. It was the same baritone, with a ring of mischief and at the same time, gentleness behind each word.

"What are you doing here?" Rinko asked when she found her voice. It was small and she felt weak. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just taking a stroll," he replied casually, his hand still on Rinko's sleeve. "Here, on this street, alone. You?"

The hell.

"Hey, old man!" Touya screeched while pointing his small index finger to the man in front of them. His face was covered with irritation. His overprotective voice resounded on Rinko's ear. "Don't touch my mom!"

Kyouya's ears perked up as he pulled his hand off her sleeve. He turned to the little boy, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Is this your son?" he asked, as if he didn't know.

Rinko lost her breath.

This so, so not happening.

. . . . . . .

**A/N: **Who wants to _beta_ this? PM me. Oh, and review. /smile/


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh For the Love of Crap**

**BY: MYLiFE'SBOAT**

This is a disclaimer.

_**Summary: **__family – n: a group of persons of common ancestry: a social group composed of parents and their children. The dictionary is wrong in a lot of ways._

_Italics are thoughts._

Man-powered proof-reading—my eyes are too blurred. Blame my glasses.

. . . . . . .

**Chapter Two**

**family **_n_,** 2: **a group of things sharing the same characteristics

. . . . . . .

One simple thing that defined an Ootori is smartassness. They are loved because of it, popular because of it, worshipped because of it. The Ootori General Hospital for one, prospered in the medical field because of many generations of men who were known for being smartasses. And it was not only the hospital that did well on the economic industry, mind you. They had other large businesses as well that included pharmaceutical companies, recreational sites, a few resorts (freaking hell) and a real estate firm.

All of these, of course, were made possible by a single trait.

Rinko can pretty well assure herself, that Kyouya, this cute and arrogant little bastard who ruined her pretty small and quiet life, is a pure-blooded Ootori. There was hardly any doubt about it.

If you analyze it well enough, you might as well say that Kyouya Ootori is one big smartass.

"Excuse me?" she coughed, gripping Touya's small nimbly fingers tighter. The poor child's knuckles were almost white. "Taking a stroll in the middle of winter?"

_Like hell, Kyouya. I'll trade my favorite pair of socks and say you won't do that over your favorite black notebook._

"Mommy, you're hurting me," Touya complained but Rinko was nearly deaf.

"Yes," he told her nonchalantly. "It's been so long, Rinko. How do you do?"

_How do you do my foot! You hate winter. You hate taking strolls outside. You hate when the snow gets stuck on the soles of your shoes. You hate the cold wind blowing against your face. You even hate the germ-filled air of this town. Screw the lies._

"Mommy! I'm hurting!"

Rinko jumped out of her thoughts and suddenly turned to her son. She loosened the grip on his hand and bent down in concern. "I'm sorry, honey. I wasn't paying attention. Are you all right?"

The little boy tended with his fist by blowing his hot breath at the back of his hand. Rinko bent down to drop a kiss on it.

"Rather cute, ain't it?" Kyouya contemplated loudly when he suddenly felt left out. He joined the other two who were crouched down on the middle of the sidewalk, a teasing smirk playing dangerously on his lips.

Acting on pure instinct, Rinko pulled her son out of Kyouya's way and hid him behind her, like an over-possessive child over her new toy. Of all the things she ever wanted to happen, this was the last thing on her list.

"How are you and your son, Rinko?" Kyouya asked while craning his head mockingly to have another glimpse of the little boy. Well, teasing her is quite fun.

"Don't talk as if we're close, _Ootori-san_." She gave emphasis on his name and more on the honorific. They glared at each other for a few minutes, daring him to continue; daring her to continue. Touya pulled himself away from his mother's hold and returned his attention on the scarf he was wearing around his neck. It was knotted too tight, he couldn't breathe properly anymore.

Rinko wanted to tell him to go away, but Kyouya beat her to it. "Is this your son?" he repeated, gesturing a nod to the little boy who had managed to pull his scarf off. He dropped it on the ground to his feet. Rinko picked it up unconsciously.

"Aah," Touya started while stepping forward from behind his mom. He pointed a finger to the stranger in front of him. "You're the old man who bumped into my mommy on the crosswalk. You didn't say sorry. Now, apologize." He balled his fist and slammed it against the top of Kyouya's head. It didn't hurt, but still. The corners of Kyouya's lips disappeared under his ears.

'Hit him harder, honey.' Hikari mentally cheered his son but much to her dismay, Touya didn't repeat the hitting. She cursed herself for failing a simple attempt of telepathy.

"Ara, old man." Touya regarded him after a few moments of silence. "Why do we look so alike?"

Rinko swore his smirk almost cracked his face to half.

Acting hastily to prevent the innocent question being answered, she picked him up and let him settle on her arms. Touya clung possessively around his mother's neck. "Touya, I thought we're going to the park."

Kyouya stood up along, his sneer permanently etched on his face. "Good. That's where I'm heading right now. Ne, Touya-kun?"

"Yes?" Touya whipped his head swiftly to his direction in earnest.

"Say, let's all go together and have some fun? I'm Kyouya."

"Aah! Kyouya-jiisan! It's nice to meet you!"

_You're the man, honey. Sarcasm is the thing!_

'He was being sarcastic, right?' Rinko asked herself, her mind going through a quiet mental battle. Touya did not actually mean to invite this . . . this old man to their company, right? He was not softening up to him, right? He did not resemble Kyouya that much that led him to think the man was his father, right?

"You can call me oniisan, ne?"

"Kyo-niisan! Mommy, I like this guy! Let's go to the park together!"

And upon hearing that, Rinko was sure her son was not being sarcastic. After all, she had taught him well to be honest all the time. She internally cursed herself for that. Maybe she should teach him how to make exceptions next time.

Rinko interjected instantly, trying to stop Kyouya and her son make friends with each other so fast. Kyouya was the last person she wanted Touya to befriend and that would not end now. "I'm sure Ootori-san is busy with work. He's a businessman, you see and businessmen have no time for parks and having fun. Perhaps next time, Ootori-san. Sorry for wasting your time."

"Eeh?" Touya was whining.

"I'm not a businessman, Rinko," he promptly corrected. Kyouya's career is one of the most important things in his life and he hated it when people mistaken his eight-year-worth of degree in medicine as something far mediocre than his profession. "I'm a doctor."

_Wouldn't that keep you a lot busier? Go save lives, freak._

"But I'm free," he continued with a brief smile. "I actually have nothing much to do right now so Touya-kun, we could have some fun."

"Yay!"

This is not happening. This is not happening. This is not ha—

The thing Rinko dreaded the moment she bore her son inside those four white corners of the labor room was happening fast in front of her eyes. She did not want Touya and Kyouya to meet. It was the only thing she feared the most. Perhaps because knowing the Ootori, he would do anything in his power to get what he wanted. She was just a one-man army and his family owned a whole fleet of a task force. It was a one-sided battle if it came to a physical fight. She had no money to pay for a lawyer either if it came down to court, plus—

No, no, no, no, no. She was not giving up. Who was the child's mother? Who carried Touya inside her womb for nine months, tried to struggle her morning sickness for six weeks, tried to struggle on her own for five years now, tried to struggle to raise him with her sweat and bare hands? It was she. It was all Rinko. Kyouya, as he lived his pretty little life on some foreign country, did not (did) care. She had every right to her own son. Touya was her flesh and blood. No one could ever change that.

Or perhaps a part of her had wished this. Ever since Rinko was a child, when her mother left because of a failed marriage, she promised herself that she would never be anything like her mom. Her child, she told herself, will know who her mother was, will grow up in a path her mother paved, and will grow up in a healthy environment with a mother, a father and a strong family tie. She will be a mother of a good child.

Fortunately, she (thought she) had a good start when she met Kyouya. Fresh from TouDai with a degree in Photojournalism (help from the insurance money her father left when she was eighteen) Rinko was employed in one of the top newspaper companies in the country. Her boss loved her, she did her job well, the pay was great. She fell in love with a man four years her senior. When she met him in that party more than five years ago, she knew at that time, she had fallen in love with the right guy. It was a childish thought, but a girl in love (Rinko) knew nothing about rational or irrational anymore. She did not care. She was in love.

Soon after, the thing about rationality and irrationality came to bite her back.

Six months later, with her stomach bulging and her mornings disturbed with unwanted vomiting here and there, she instantly became a single parent.

What luck.

Even after all these years, Rinko wanted to have a family; a caring and nurturing family. Right now, Touya was the only one. But wouldn't it be nice to have a real family, with a father who would to take care of business five days a week and then have a stroll at the park with his wife and son during weekends; with a mother who would bake cookies or cakes in the afternoon and laze around the house to find some things to do and chores to finish? She can pick Touya up from the daycare by four, or maybe the father would. They can jump in the car and drive to a family restaurant or to a cartoon movie in the cinema before the day ended.

The mere thought made her feel warm inside.

. . . . . . .

From a park bench, she watched them both as Kyouya tried to get along well and know the child better. He was smiling, and it was the first time she saw him smile in a very long time.

The businessman had taken his suit and tie off in spite of the weather. Much to Rinko's surprise, he even played tag with Touya who ran as fast as his small legs could carry him. Soon, Kyouya caught him in an embrace and flung the child on his shoulder. Touya was laughing his heart out. She had never seen him this happy before.

"You're a charmer," she told him a few minutes later when Kyouya joined her on the bench. Touya was mounted on a roundabout as a blonde boy ran in circles, spinning her son around in dizzying rounds.

"I already know that." He occupied the space where his Armani coat had been, swinging it to land on the arm of her seat. They have only spent a few hours together and they acted out as if they have known each other for the longest time. Rinko could not help sighing.

Kyouya leaned on the backrest of the bench and crossed his legs. "Here." He handed her a can of coke.

"If you're trying to bribe me with this aluminum can of soda, think again." She gave out a loud scowl before taking it from his hands and popping it open. Kyouya did the same and took a large swig.

"I leaned how to operate those machines because of commoner friend of mine," he explained. "I did not realize there are machines you could bribe, you know."

Rinko blinked once. Twice. She gave a roar of laughter when his words sank in. "You know, Touya said the same words when I got him a fruit juice yesterday. His curiosity sometimes gives me headaches but I'm glad I've managed. So far."

Kyouya's hand stopped midway when he heard her laugh. Has it really been five years since he heard that voice resonate on his ear as loudly as this?

They were enveloped in a moment's silence. Kyouya sipped from his drink and Rinko did the same. They watched the black-haired little boy run to the swing as his new blonde friend followed his tracks. They mounted each swing and swung back and forth, their feet barely touching the ground.

"Do you know that my best friend was blonde? He was half-French," Kyouya told her.

'I guess I have to ban Touya from playing with that boy again.' Hikari thought furiously, trying her best to contact her son using telepathy once again. 'Honey, get away from that boy.'

"We resemble each other a lot, don't you think?"

"I know." That's why from the beginning, it was so hard to forget. "But what are you gonna do now?"

"Hmm?"

"You're not going to take him away from me, right?" Rinko did not want to hear him say he would take their (her) son away from her. "I don't have money to fight for custody."

Kyouya chuckled at this. "No, I'm not evil enough to take him away from his mother, no."

Somewhere in a distance, inside a household of the Ishikawa family, one of their lightbulbs burst. "Honey, what happened?"

"Must be electric wiring problems."

"Isn't this a bad omen?"

"I hope not."

Rinko somehow found it hard to believe his words. The word 'evil' itself coming from his mouth was cringe-worthy enough for her not to believe.

There was silence again and Kyouya broke it once more.

"I provided you money for your pregnancy and after Touya's birth." It was a statement. Not a question. Hikari could remember that too. "You didn't use them."

"I gave them away for charity."

Their newspaper company had a self-founded charitable foundation at that time and she gave away all the money Kyouya sent to her bank account. It was that moment when Rinko's heart was freshly broken and every piece of it cursed his name outright.

As years passed, she has gotten tired of getting mad at him and the anger dissipated.

Kyouya laughed and she felt offended with the sound of his mirth. It was not as if he'd expected her to spend the money for her sake. She hated depending onto people when it comes to financial issues.

"How is Reiko?" she asked irritatingly before she could stop herself. Kyouya fell silent at once and looked at her, contemplating her expression. He leaned his back on the bench and raised four ringless fingers for her to see. "Divorced, two years. Didn't you hear about it?"

It was all over the media.

"Not interested," she told him.

"You work for a newspaper company."

Okay, so she heard about it. So what? "I figured it was just a rumor. The Hiritaii Industries were a large asset for your company."

"Maybe." Kyouya finished with his soda. He crushed the can on his fist and threw it on the trashbin. "But not a big loss nonetheless."

Rinko scoffed. "Some life, huh?"

"Yeah."

Silence.

Kyouya broke it for the third time. "Rinko . . . come live with me. Touya, you and I. We can live together as a family."

Rinko turned her head to a man wearing a pair of glasses. How could he say such thing, in such a straight face, in such a strange way, in such a cool manner, in such an unromantic sort of way. He did not even bother to kneel. Wait, wait, wait. Rinko smacked herself in disbelief. How could she even think that way?

Kyouya casually turned his head to look at her. "I was joking."

She let out a long-held breath. Rinko tried to regain her composure by gulping more oxygen. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"No."

Touya was now running back to the bench. His new playmate had probably gone back home and besides, it's been some time. He must be exhausted.

"Mommy, mommy!" he yelled excitedly, jumping up and down. "I've made a new friend! His name's Daniel! He said he'd play with me again. Can we go back here tomorrow, please? Please... Pleeeeaaaassee . . ."

"I told you they'd get along well."

Rinko gave him a cold look before gathering Touya up to smoothen the wrinkles on her son's clothes.


End file.
